Puzzle Pieces
by Hairpiece
Summary: Wings of Liberty from the view of a Dominion Ghost with a small problem. He has a role to play in the Queen of Blade's game of conquest.
1. Prologue

_DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable characters and plot details belong to Blizzard Entertainment and I am in no way gaining any profit from this fanfiction. This is just for my enjoyment and yours. Nothing more, nothing less._

_**Prologue:**  
_

The winds kicked up dust over the barren wasteland that was the surface of Char. From space one could see the storms as they blew across the surface. Beautiful. Chaotic. Relentless. A fitting place for the Queen of Blades to reign. Down on the surface the air was hot and dry, burned you eyes, your throat. Sand and ash covered everything nothing was pure, unspoiled by the wars that ravaged its surface. A true testament to the power of the swarm, to the utter chaotic and destructive nature and will of the Overmind. Death hung in the air, the bodies long since decayed. Millions of soldiers, people, long forgotten. Not forgotten by all however. Char remembers. Where so much death resides, it is almost poetic that so much life, as much as you can consider the Zerg life, can flourish. What seemed dead on the surface, was really teeming with life underground. All was going well except for a slight disturbance. Kerrigan was getting impatient. She had been implementing her plan for years now, ever since she first arose as the Queen of Blades. Things had been going well. Too well. Everything hinged on a few key pieces to this puzzle, a few game makers if you will. If even one of these pieces to fall into the wrong hands it could seriously jeopardize everything she had worked for. The final confrontation, the beginning of the end, all would be decided here; in her domain. If anyone told you she was not nervous, anxious, excited even they would be spewing lies. Her children, her swarm, fights with a zealous ferocity that none other than those within the swarm could ever truly comprehend. Her feelings regarding them were strange, hard to describe. She loved them as her own, yet at the same time they were expendable. Anything for the swarm. She did not truly understand why she needed to fight, only that she must. Often she tried to attach it to emotions, to her past, the betrayal on Tarsonis. The metamorphosis had taken much from her, yet ultimately it could not take away the entirety of her humanity. For the first time she could remember, Kerrigan was afraid.

As the Dominion and Raynor's Raiders penetrated her orbital defences she now knew things were out of her hands. All she could do is hope that in their haste they did not realize that they were being played like puppets, slaves as much as her swarm. The events that had played out till this moment had shaped their choices later on. Her cards were on the table, Jimmy's cards were down, the Dominion had played their cards early on. He had the final hand, he had the aces. It was all up to him now. What would he choose, where would his cards lie. He alone had the power to choose the fate of the entirety of humanity. Would he be the saviour, or would he be the executioner?

_A/N: Sorry for the length people, its a short preview does not really expose too much of the story if any at all. Plot and character development begin in the next chapter. I hope to increase the length of the chapters to ~2000 - ~3000 words each if not more Main Characters will beKerrigan (Queen of Blades) and OC. More will be revealed later on. Thank you, remember to Review or things will stagnate and will not improve. I am always looking to improve my writing, no flames as they will be deleted and or ignored._

_Logan O_

PS: I hope to update fairly frequently maybe once a week however do not hold me to that, life is busy and I find myself with a severe deficit of free time to write with


	2. Whispers in the Dark

DISCLAMER:

Any recognizable characters, places, plot details ect are not mine and I in no way lay claim to them, I am simply using them. This is not for profit just for fun.

Chapter 1:

** Whispers in the Darkness:**

His head was pounding. He could not remember pain such as this since his time in the academy. Tarsonis had fallen only weeks ago and the remnants of the Confederacy were scattered and disorganized. All could tell it was in its final moments. Arcturus Megnks. The people loved him, but all could tell that he was not as he seemed. It only took a little bit of digging to figure out what had happened down on Tarsonis. Megnks had abandoned those still on the ground. Arclite however did not really care either way. The Confederacy had fallen, and out of its ashes grew the Dominion. So long as there was a government in place he would serve as was his purpose. Psi-Ops. Some people believed it to be a government conspiracy to terrorize the populace into obedience, others simply refused to acknowledge its very existence. It mattered not, if they were targeted they would die whether or not they believed it existed. Nobody really knew what had happened to Lt. Sarah Kerrigan on Tarsonis except those who were there. Everyone else simply knew she was listed amongst the dead. He never understood just how important Sarah Kerrigan would be, nor that she had not died on the surface of Tarsonis as the Zerg descended from orbit completely destroying the Terran on the planet.

"Hey Arclite get your ass out of bed, we've got work that needs doing."

"Aye, I'm up. Give me a sit-rep. Who are we going after now?"

"Who are _You_ going after you mean." said Lancer as he walked towards the agitant gesturing for Arclite to follow him, "You are aware of the Red Hand. Well it appears that they got their hands on some experimental extremely dangerous stim-packs and are marketing them out to the locals." he explained as the agitant brought up some pictures showing some sales and important people and higher ups within the gang.

"Some of our undercover operatives have arranged a meeting between the Red Hand and some Confederate hold outs. They plan on trading some of the tech for the drugs. Your orders are the complete termination of all Red Hand members and and of the Confederate hold outs in the area. We are sending a message, Arclite make an example of them. Show them that the Dominion will not tolerate these gangs." as he finished his little speech he logged out of the agitant and started heading towards the bulkhead that would then lead to his quarters.

"You have three days before the meeting is planned. We can get you in, but an exit strategy is one you will need to do on your own. Dismissed."

Arclite headed towards the Armory, he would need to triple check his gear before heading out as he always did. He was given all available intelligence on this mission and knew he would need to do this quietly, eliminate them before they could return fire. The numbers were against him, yet that never affected him before. Quick, clean, quiet. The way a ghost operates best. The humble knife, arguably the deadliest weapon in a Ghost's arsenal, and it never left Arclite's side. He was not green per-say, but he wasn't the top dog either. When graduating from the Academy he ranked in one of the top graduates for his year. His Psionic potential ranked level 9. After reaching the Armory the quartermaster issued him his customized gear, most ghosts had very specific tastes when it came to their arms and so had specialized gear.

"Alright, here's your gear Arclite." said Sgt Reindhart, "One C-20 Canister rifle, with optimized targeting system. Complete with weather and atmospheric condition countermeasures," As he laid the rifle on the table in front of the window, "Some C-4 shaped charges, and finally your ACS 20-3B Combat goggles."

"Thanks Jack-Knife."

Arclite didn't bother to wait for a reply, simply started heading back to his quarters in the main Ghost barracks on the station. The station often housed the Dominion's Elite so they had a permanent barracks set up for them. As he wandered back, thinking of the strange visions he had of Sarah Kerrigan, a dead woman, he was unsure what to think. As a Telepath he is quite used to strange happenings, however he was normally the one to initiate them not the 'victim'. He did not know much about her, only that she was one of the best Ghosts that the Confederacy ever manufactured. He hated to admit it but he was intrigued, how was it that someone he had never met, only ever knew about by rumour and had no idea where she was be able to contact him in such a manner. Normally you had to be in rather close proximity or know the Psionic signature of the target you wished to influence to be able to achieve a harmonic frequency without that knowledge it's like trying to pick a single thread out of a ball of identical threads. Then you needed to find it and pull them into what is best described as an in-between plane of existence. It was often called this because you were not awake, nor asleep. He kept having visions of her past, her life from a third person point of view. Most were hazy, most did not make any sense out of context. He did not know it but these visions had a purpose, because the more he looked at it the stronger the connection became. All part of a plan in which he was but a pawn, albeit a very important pawn, a pawn never the less.

Regaining his focus he realized he was at the security checkpoint separating the Ghost barracks from the standard Marine's barracks.

"Please state your name, rank, and serial number." the station's agitant said in its droning monotone.

"Arclite, Lt. Commander, Alpha-Serria-Zero-Zero-One-Seven-Niner"

"Identification Confirmed. Welcome back Lt. Commander."

As the Agitant finished its predetermined greeting the massive blast doors separated, exposing the long hallways that separated the individual rooms the Ghosts got, mainly because all Ghosts are officers and as such were given the basics in regards to their rank. It was a nice gesture, however most ghosts, any self respecting ghosts, don't ask for much. Mostly a way to sate the need to hunt and kill. An instinct drilled into them from a very young age. Many would do this job without pay, the only thing they need is a target to destroy. Each ghost was similar in that aspect, however they all had unique 'calling' cards. A way to show the galaxy that it was them personally who dispatched their target, not just a ghost. Arclite always left a few words for those unlucky souls who happens upon the body. Personal; it was always personal with a ghost. It is what made them such effective soldiers, killers.

Opening the door to his private quarters he spreads his gear on the large desk pinning pictures on the board above it. Arclite didn't understand why he used physical photos and pin them up instead of relying on technology to do it for him, however this is the way he always does it so he would not be stopping any time soon. After shedding all the extra supplies, Arclite decided that he should go clear his head, he simply could not plan properly in this state.

That dream, those visions would not stop plaguing his mind. He would have to deal with them and fast. All ghosts had some level of insanity, had to be to do their job properly. This however was too much, he losses focus on the job like he did on the way to his barracks he could be killed, or worse embarrassed. Ghosts are proud. Very very proud. Death on the job would be preferable to the humiliation of failing their mission, almost regardless of their missions' tendency to be nearly impossible at the best of times. Meditation. That was his answer, he would go meditate for a few hours to get his thoughts in order and be able to ignore those visions. As he settled on that descision there was a knock at the door.

"Hey Arclite, c'mon I need you to help me go collect another greeny."

"Damnit," he swore under his breath, "Alright Nova I'm coming let me get my gear back on." Collecting 'Greenies' was one of Arclite's least favourite jobs. They had to go and gather up children that had a large psionic potential for enrolment in the Ghost Program. He didn't care that he was taking children from their parents, indeed such was the price to pay for security. What he did care about however is that the task could easily be performed by marines, hell even police forces could do that.

"It's not so bad Arclite!" claimed Nova as she winked at him reading his thoughts, "Besides we both know how much you adore kids."

That woman was infuriating. On a constant high apparently, never grounded always bouncing off of the goddamn walls. She was one of the best Ghosts he ever met yet that did not mean he had to like her. At all. He knew she was just 'asking' him to go to piss him off. Admittedly she was good, and can and would make his life hell should he choose to ignore her. A little annoyance now, or a lot more later? He would have to take the former.

"You love me and you know it!"

"Right."

Was all he said as he followed her out of the barracks.

A/N:

There you have it, chapter 2. Got a little filler in, introduced some characters and a little bit of the initial plot. Yeah, Nova is going to be fairly important and present throughout the story. As promised here is a longer chapter. I hope to have most chapters around this length however don't hold me to that. As before feel free to private message me with questions, comments and what not, reviews are appricated and flames will be ignored and or deleted.

Thanks,

LoganO


	3. Price of Secuirty

DISCLAMER: Don't own anything except the plot and characters you don't recognize.

Chapter 2:

**The Price of Security:**

"Ooh!" shrieked Nova, "I really hope that this one's a runner!"

'Nova' Arclite sent through their neural link. 'Why are you yelling? You know I can hear your thoughts loud as day there is no need to shriek like a school girl.'

"But it would be rude to converse in our heads knowing full well that others cannot hear us." she said as if it were obvious. "And before you say that it is only us two in here, I'll have you know I am practising."

That was just creepy, how advanced does this link have to be to be at the point? Is this replicable? Or is this simply Nova.

'No its not like that at all you dolt. You are about as predictable as late night TV.' Nova claimed through their link while rolling her eyes without the slightest hint of subtlety. Turning towards the view port on the drop ship she left him to his devices.

Who is Sarah? Where is she? He questioned himself, deep in his mind, that one little safe spot, that one spot so far deep so well protected that it is the only place one could truly be private. The more he thought about it the worse his memory seemed to become. Almost as if they were taunting him, mocking his inability to understand, to comprehend. Frustrated about being stonewalled by the visions again Arclite returned his attention to the task at hand.

From what Nova told him the child they were going after was 5 years old, and was picked up on scanners the Dominion built. They built them everywhere, mostly at schools, day cares, athletic facilities, anywhere and everywhere children or their parents would traverse often. The child, known as foxtrot hotel one zero four, had an acceptable affinity with Psionic energy. With a little hard work, some elbow grease, and brute force this child would become another proud ghost serving her community, and her empire.

This train of thought brought up some pleasant, and rather unpleasant memories of the Academy. They taught things that no school could ever teach. Many entered the bare walls of the Academy much fewer left. His year was one of the worst ones in a long time at the academy, only 7 of 54 potentials survived until the final 'exam'. Of those 7 only 4 made it through. You could tell who was taking to the program, the training, and who was not. You could see it in their eyes, even without using telepathy. They began to show an insane quality about them, something that said their humanity was being stripped away exposing something that resides within every human, yet is often bogged down by certain limitations. Morality, mercy. Both are equally useless. Both will not slay your enemies, nor protect your family; However that is not why a ghost kills. They kill because they love it. They crave it. They need it. Some people manifest that need as a voice in their head. Only those who cannot or will not accept who they are. Those who would deny the existence of such urges, and needs.

Arclite himself never had such voices, he knew he was a killer, cold and efficient. He accepted that. He embraced it. The feeling, the emotion he felt when he killed, slaughtered, were almost beyond description. He felt on top of the world. Everything was heightened, he could hear everything, see anything, do almost anything; invincible. He always kept his composure externally, as is expected of a ghost internally however he was flying high. He loved the intimacy of slaughtering people, to know that he held true power over the target. To live or die, was in his hands entirely. He took their lives into his hands and crushed them. Stamped them out. His knife was his absolute favourite weapon, it forced you to get in close, reach out and touch them. He left words for those who would find the body, but he always said a few choice words to those about to die. He felt he owed them that much.

One of his more personal kills was a rebel leader, Sophia, she was one tough bitch but she fell like all the others. He hunted her for 4 months. Where she went he went. She was getting paranoid, because he wanted her to suffer before he finished her off. He kept feeding her emotions, anxiety, paranoia, fear. Fear. Something he does not fully understand, but something he uses for his own means never the less. She was afraid by the end. Fear of death is something incredibly stupid. Death is inevitable. That is one of the universal rules. He had accepted that one day he would die, so he did not let it bother him nor affect his missions or life. It took him some time but Arclite finally had her pinned. After dispatching her guard she had hired to keep her safe he advanced on his primary objective. A gleam in his eye, that betrayed just how much he enjoyed this.

He had her pinned against the wall with his knife in her side, slowly yet surely draining her.

"Hello dear," he whispered right in her ear, "Open your eyes, I want to see who I killed."

"Fuck you." she spat out as her condition showed in the effort she had to make just to say her insult.

"I am afraid we don't have time for that babe, and that is no way for a lady to act."

She glared at him with nothing but hate in her eyes. What she saw there terrified her. What was there wasn't _Human_. It had this desire about it, this intensity that made it feel like she was staring into a star. Despite his well controlled action he could not change what he hid behind his eyes.

He saw it, that look of terror, pure fear. That is what he wanted all along. With a final thrust he stripped her life away. Removing his knife he grinned as he heard her guts spill onto the floor of her study. Such barbarity, such violence, he did it, he loved it. Pulling out his bag of white chalk he chose a piece and proceeded to write his message on the wall where he killed her. He wrote this message for the galaxy to see.

"_No matter how fast you run, no matter how far you flee, I can find you. I will find you. Then I will kill you. I give you reason to be afraid of the dark."_

Arclite was rustled from his thoughts yet again by the ever pestilent Nova.

"Hey Arclite we're here."

'Gotcha Nova,' Arclite replied trying to refocus his mind on the mission at hand, 'Smash and grab?'

"Not this time. We're going to walk in and ask very politely." Seeing his look Nova simply said, "Hey I was being completely serious. If they make a break for it then we go balls out."

'Alright, I'll let you do all the talking then, you know I am terrible with words. Give me a knife and I'll make it sing, ask me to sing and we're in trouble.'

It was a nice cozy little house, surprisingly it was more traditional than what most people had, or at least appeared to be. Not quite the shiny metallic slabs that made up most houses in the area. These people must have been very wealthy if that was indeed proper wood. Nova strode up to the door and knocked hard leaving a few fist sized impressions.

"Psi-Ops! Open up!" Nova cried 'Actually don't that will be way more fun.'

'My lord, Nova for once we agree.' Secretly, or not so secretly Arclite was itching for some action. It had been far too long since he felt the thrill of the hunt. He needed to be sated. They waited a moment before Nova strode back to the door again and as she was about to knock they both heard a slight whine and click.

'Oh shit.' All that came after was the door got utterly obliterated by a shaped charge. Quickly diving to the side they rolled away from the blast.

'Mother fucker wants to play.' Nova practically spat out, 'Time to show 'im this bitch is the real deal.'

'Just remember the package is NOT to be damage in any way shape or form.' Arclite reprimanded lightly. Nova, while technically being the 'superior' often acted rashly once you got her into one of her moods.

'Yeah yeah. I know my job.' Quickly they both activated their stealth and donned their combat goggles. Almost imitatively their vision light up highlighting at least a dozen potential hostiles. Entering the main hall he saw that they must have been rich indeed. Hiring War Pigs to defend their home a useless gesture. 'They must have been tipped off that we were coming' Arclite reasoned through the bond. How else could they have prepared so much in such a short amount of time. 'Nova, we have a mole. We are going off the grid. We will get commands as they become available. Word of mouth orders only.'

'Arclite I am moving to the second level, be advised.' Nova responded, her joy almost palpable through the link.

Sticking to the walls Arclite didn't acknowledge he didn't need to. As he rounded the corner he came up to a checkpoint. As he was deciding what to do about them he heard screams coming from upstairs followed by heavy gunfire. 'Excellent distraction Nova.' Arclite thought to himself allowing a small, sinister grin to creep onto his otherwise stoic features. Moving quickly and silently he closed the distance and his knife found its self tasting the ex-marines blood right from the jugular. A quiet gurgle was all that escaped the mercenary's throat as he was quickly silenced when his spinal cord was severed. Sending a quick psionic pulse at the other two he sent them tumbling to the floor. As he broke out his C-20 and lined up a shot the head of the man beside him exploded. Smiling at Nova's handiwork he quickly finished the remaining swine.

'Top floor is clear arc.'

'Right so is the main floor.' Arclite mused, 'So time to play hide and seek?'

'Oh yes.' Nova exclaimed a huge smile gracing her elegant features, 'Going to be a good one, they have deployed a small psi-scrambler, have to do this one old school.'

Nodding his head Arclite and Nova proceeded to the main hall to begin their search. Completely stoic except for his eyes which were simply shining in anticipation.

'Now it begins.' Stated Arclite as they walked over the bodies of the fallen.

A/N: Hello again devoted reader! Just decided to release this one a little earlier. First shot at some action, has a little bit of graphic [Violent] content. (Had to justify the rating). A little view into the man behind the gun on this one, I have a plan for the child they are taking. Thats all I am going to say on the manner. Review or don't, choice is ultimately yours, however if you choose not to review I will not improve and thus will receive the same stuff I have been giving out recently. A little more action planned next chapter and some more Sarah visions. All will make sense in time [I hope].

Thanks,  
Logan O


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